Poppy's Arrival
Let me start by saying this: I had a hard pregnancy. Hopefully that makes up for this labor story. 😂
It was Thursday May 9th, and I was decidedly done with being pregnant. My due date was the 15th, but I had absolutely no intention of making it that far. I finished up my work day and headed to what I prayed would be my last prenatal appointment.
My doctor gave me some good news and an option: I was 5 centimeters dilated, and I could go in and have the baby that evening. Well, I knew my answer: let’s do the dang thing! My excitement quickly diminished when I called my husband to say we could have the baby that night. He wanted me to hold on one more day. As a fifth grade teacher, he was dead set on getting through standardized testing with his students before taking time off. I didn’t know whether to admire his loyalty to his school and students or snap his head off for making me wait to birth our child.
I agreed to wait but made no promises since I was already 5 cm dilated with my second child. Labor being imminent felt like the understatement of the year. I just had to get to 10:15AM, and then I was “allowed” to go into labor, per my husband.
I woke up Friday May 10th with cramps that were regular but not to the point where I could time them. My husband headed off to work. I sat at home convinced I was going to go into labor all alone and end up in one of those TV shows where the mom delivers her child like the days of old. I did not want to be that woman. I am hardcore team epidural.
I made it to 10:15AM without my baby falling out. But I felt like I was playing with fire. This baby was not coming out anywhere other than the hospital so we headed to our ultimate destination.
The triage doctor, bless her soul, agreed to admit me despite my ability to jog around the labor and delivery floor while waving and smiling to all the nurses every lap. Again, cramps, not contractions. I later dubbed them “cramptractions”.
I pretty much announced to every single human that entered my hospital room that my birth plan was: epidural first, everything else after. I joked with the anesthesiologist that I wanted the two-sided epidural this time as I only got the one-sided one last time. He laughed, but in hindsight, it’s probably not the best idea to try out jokes with the man putting a big needle in your spine. I felt gloriously numb as the doctor came in to break my water around 8:30PM. According to protocol, they give you two hours after breaking your water to progress with labor, and if things aren’t hurrying along, they will start Pitocin.
My nurse entered promptly at 10:30PM and began to mentally prepare me for the likelihood of Pitocin. She checked me and says, “Oh wow. Well you’re completely dilated and ready to push.” They may have been surprised, but I was not. Remember, I was thinking this baby was going to fall out at home. We do a practice push before summoning the doctor. She quickly tells me to stop and to not push again until I’m told. At this point the pressure to push is building.
The doctor hurries in and gets gowned up just in time for him to participate in me pushing... because it was happening with or without him. Two contractions, four pushes, and about five minutes later, my second daughter entered the world. The first thing I thought when I saw her was, “Oh, she is so beautiful.” Beautiful in a breathtaking kind of way. Just like the first time, I was unbearably happy to hold my precious blessing. It felt as if my soul was crying out with gratefulness. I was finally holding my child after unending sickness, a couple of scares, and an umbilical cord complication I didn’t even know about until after delivery. Through all of that, here she was-perfectly and wonderfully made. As my pediatrician said to me once, “It is an absolute miracle that a child can be born with all ten fingers and toes.”
It was Thursday May 9th, and I was decidedly done with being pregnant. My due date was the 15th, but I had absolutely no intention of making it that far. I finished up my work day and headed to what I prayed would be my last prenatal appointment.
My doctor gave me some good news and an option: I was 5 centimeters dilated, and I could go in and have the baby that evening. Well, I knew my answer: let’s do the dang thing! My excitement quickly diminished when I called my husband to say we could have the baby that night. He wanted me to hold on one more day. As a fifth grade teacher, he was dead set on getting through standardized testing with his students before taking time off. I didn’t know whether to admire his loyalty to his school and students or snap his head off for making me wait to birth our child.
I agreed to wait but made no promises since I was already 5 cm dilated with my second child. Labor being imminent felt like the understatement of the year. I just had to get to 10:15AM, and then I was “allowed” to go into labor, per my husband.
I woke up Friday May 10th with cramps that were regular but not to the point where I could time them. My husband headed off to work. I sat at home convinced I was going to go into labor all alone and end up in one of those TV shows where the mom delivers her child like the days of old. I did not want to be that woman. I am hardcore team epidural.
I made it to 10:15AM without my baby falling out. But I felt like I was playing with fire. This baby was not coming out anywhere other than the hospital so we headed to our ultimate destination.
The triage doctor, bless her soul, agreed to admit me despite my ability to jog around the labor and delivery floor while waving and smiling to all the nurses every lap. Again, cramps, not contractions. I later dubbed them “cramptractions”.
I pretty much announced to every single human that entered my hospital room that my birth plan was: epidural first, everything else after. I joked with the anesthesiologist that I wanted the two-sided epidural this time as I only got the one-sided one last time. He laughed, but in hindsight, it’s probably not the best idea to try out jokes with the man putting a big needle in your spine. I felt gloriously numb as the doctor came in to break my water around 8:30PM. According to protocol, they give you two hours after breaking your water to progress with labor, and if things aren’t hurrying along, they will start Pitocin.
My nurse entered promptly at 10:30PM and began to mentally prepare me for the likelihood of Pitocin. She checked me and says, “Oh wow. Well you’re completely dilated and ready to push.” They may have been surprised, but I was not. Remember, I was thinking this baby was going to fall out at home. We do a practice push before summoning the doctor. She quickly tells me to stop and to not push again until I’m told. At this point the pressure to push is building.
The doctor hurries in and gets gowned up just in time for him to participate in me pushing... because it was happening with or without him. Two contractions, four pushes, and about five minutes later, my second daughter entered the world. The first thing I thought when I saw her was, “Oh, she is so beautiful.” Beautiful in a breathtaking kind of way. Just like the first time, I was unbearably happy to hold my precious blessing. It felt as if my soul was crying out with gratefulness. I was finally holding my child after unending sickness, a couple of scares, and an umbilical cord complication I didn’t even know about until after delivery. Through all of that, here she was-perfectly and wonderfully made. As my pediatrician said to me once, “It is an absolute miracle that a child can be born with all ten fingers and toes.”
Once again, I am in awe of the Creator and undeniably grateful for the life of my precious daughter.
Welcome Poppy Jayne, my little angel.
Welcome Poppy Jayne, my little angel.
May 10, 2019
10:54 PM
7 pounds 1 ounce
21” long
Beautifully written of a Beautiful Baby Blessing 💝
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