A somewhat schmaltzy post

Today is Maddy's first birthday! As of today, I will never (EVER EVER) again have a "baby." Even though she's not walking yet, I personally use the term "toddler" to describe any kid from the age of 12 months-3 years. So now I have a toddler (well, two, since Lily isn't three yet).

I love me some babies. So if I ever cuddle your newborn and sniff them Claire-on-Modern-Family style, forgive me.

To celebrate Maddy's birth, I figured "why not write her birth story?" Because I know everyone is simply dying to hear it (some for the 2nd, 3rd, 4th time). Indulge me.

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On March 6th, I finished my last class of the spring 1 quarter. My due date was March 8th. As I finished my presentation for my Career Counseling class, we all joked that NOW the baby can arrive, as I had been really stressed about delivering before the term ended.

I should know by now- I make super full term babies. Lily was born at 40 weeks and 2 days. If I hadn't induced, I'm sure Ty would have done the same.

The next day, March 7th, I hung out at home with the kids. I wasn't expecting anything. I had an appointment scheduled for my due date, and they were going to do a non-stress test. I was kind of looking forward to it. We were playing outside, and I was pushing Lily on the swings when I started feeling some contractions. I thought nothing of it, because I had been having them off and on for a couple of weeks (even going so far as to have my babysitters on standby a couple of times). A friend from school called, and she asked if I had been feeling anything. I didn't want to jinx it, so I told her no. (Don't worry, I told her the truth when I saw her a couple of weeks later!)

I started timing the contraction around 5:00. I texted a couple of friends who were game for watching the kids, and told them I would keep them posted. One responded that she was available for the night, and to bring them over whenever. I started making dinner, still thinking that they would probably stop. But when the contractions were still going at 6, and were getting to the point that I had to stop moving and kind of concentrate through them, I packed the kids' bags and Steve took them to my friend's.

I called my midwife and told her what was going on. She gave me her cell and told me to keep timing them, and if they were still pretty consistent at 10:00 to let her know and head in. I ate some pasta and started folding clothes on the couch while watching Big Bang. Obviously I wasn't too concerned.

I still timed the contractions on the handy dandy Contraction Master website.  They were at the 5:1:1 mark (5 minutes apart, lasting for at least 1 minute each, and continuing for over an hour...that was drilled into my head as a parenting instructor), so I called my midwife at 10 to tell her we were heading in. Steve asked if it was too soon, since I didn't seem to be in pain. An understandable question- with Lily, I was doubled over in pain, crying "I can't do this, I need drugs!" before we even got to the car. I was also 9 centimeters dilated by the time we got to the hospital, and thought I was going to birth the kid in the parking garage. This time around, I was cracking jokes, moving around the house, and acting totally normal. I didn't want to take any chances.

I had a couple of intense contractions on the way, but nothing I couldn't handle. We checked in around 10:30 and got settled in triage. The contractions were getting to the point where I had to stop and breathe through them, but again, nothing too bad. My midwife, Lauren, came in and checked me.

3 centimeters.

Are you kidding me?

I wanted another med-free birth. I did it with Lily, and I LOVED it. I mean, I obviously didn't love the pain. But the recovery from it was so much easier than when I was induced and drugged up with Ty. And it was so quick! 6 hours, from the first contraction to the last push. I prefer to labor at home as much as possible, so I can avoid the temptation of that sweet sweet epidural. Again, with Lily, I labored until transition (8-9 centimeters) before even heading to the hospital. And she was born an hour and a half after we got there. So I didn't really have time to wish I had some drugs in me. This time around, being only 3 centimeters, I thought we would have hours to go.

We decided to go ahead and get a delivery room, so we wouldn't have to drive home and back. I had an IV port put in, in case I needed some hydration, but it wasn't hooked up to anything. Lauren had another woman in labor, so she was going to be bouncing back and forth. She also had a midwife in training with her who would check on me periodically. After they left, Steve and I flipped on the tv. I figured I could watch some Daily Show or Colbert while I labored. But there was no Comedy Central! The nerve! So we settled on Sports Center.

That was the day that Peyton Manning announced he would be playing with the Broncos. So that was all over ESPN. Considering how often I heard his name, I seriously considered naming the kid Peyton.

The nurse brought out a birthing ball for me to bounce on. For the uninformed, a birthing ball is a big, bouncy medicine/exercise ball that you can sit on and proceed to bounce or roll around to encourage dilation of the cervix. Sorry if that squeams you out. I sat on it, rolled, and bounced. I walked around the room. When a contraction hit, I would hold on to Steve or he would rub my lower back. They were getting stronger and more painful, and I really had to breathe to get through them. A few more minutes passed, and the contractions were even more painful. The midwife in training came in, and I asked if I could get in the shower. The hot water hitting the back is used to help with pain. It didn't work. The pain was too strong, and the contractions were too close. I was crying and holding on to the woman while Steve continued to rub my back. When a contraction hit, I would clench up and rise up on my toes. I don't know why. The training midwife checked me and said she wasn't sure how dilated I was, so she was going to get Lauren. I got my lovely hospital gown back on and climbed in the bed. Lauren came in to check me.

Lo and behold, I was 10 glorious centimeters! 

It was midnight. I had checked into the room at 11 pm.

I went from 3 cm to 10 cm in an hour.

IT CAN HAPPEN! I never believed it, but I am proof!

Turns out the training midwife knew I was at a 10, but didn't want to get me excited until she got a second opinion.

Lauren broke my water (3 births under my belt, and that sucker has never broken on it's own). After that, it was pushin' time.

I'm going to skip this part. Let's just say it was gory, it was painful, it involved some position changing, and I almost broke Steve's wrist.

One thing that I remember was how quiet it was (aside from Peyton Manning). I just concentrated on breathing, listening to my body (I know, how hippie of me), and pushing when I needed to. The nurses and midwives chatted, got things ready, and helped me along. When I talked, it was at a whisper. It was calm and peaceful. Apparently that is pretty rare, because the nurses kept telling me it was one of the best births they had ever seen, and Lauren was bragging to the other midwives the next day.

At 1:30 am, I pushed for the last time and out popped our little surprise! Not only was her conception a surprise, so was her sex- a little girl. We didn't find out the sex at the 20 week ultrasound, and we were both convinced that I was pregnant with a boy. We were also fooled with Ty- we could have sworn he was going to be a girl.

We got to the recovery room around 4 am, and Steve headed home to get a little sleep. I dozed as much as I could, but had so much adrenaline that I was pretty awake. My mom called around 5:30, and I talked with her for awhile. During all this time, Maddy was kicking ass in her bassinet, sleeping away.

Man oh man, my hospital stay was magnificent! It was like a vacation!

The kids were with my friends, Steve slept at home and visited the hospital a little, and Maddy and I ate, slept, watched TV and played on the computer. I knew I couldn't breastfeed (fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice...), so I fed formula from the get go. There was no stress over breast feeding like I had with the other two, which made the experience so much better.

Steve came back the next morning, and we got ready to go home. Maddy was a little jaundiced (as were the other two), so I was given the option of either staying another night or just bringing her back the next morning to check her bilirubin levels. I was ready to get home, so I opted to leave.

Biggest mistake ever.

The kids didn't nap, so they were wide awake and annoying. My adrenaline was wearing off, and my baby blues were kicking in. Lily was in full blown 17 month old middle child territory (no explanation needed). Needless to say, it was a rough day. I ended up locking myself in the bathroom and crying.

Of course, things got better. I mean, we survived the year.

To sum it up:

-Med-free births kick ass (for me. If you want drugs, I do NOT judge!)
-You CAN dilate 7+ centimeters in an hour.
-If you think you're having a boy, you're probably having a girl. And vice versa.
-If you weren't able to feed your first two kids, odds are you have no milk and can't breastfeed a third. Don't stress, and if anyone gives you attitude about it, FUCK THEM (no one did, but I was ready for a fight).
-Take an extra day in the hospital if it's offered, especially if you have kids at home. It's expensive, but it's worth it.

Happy birthday, Maddy Mae!

Picture Fest 2013