In many a conversation I've cited one of my biggest lessons in motherhood: I am not in control. There is nothing like holding a new little life in your hands and realizing you cannot choose anything for them. You may have chosen to have them and that's about it. From the moment you conceive you don't pick their sex, personality, health, interests, responses, etc. etc. etc. It's humbling, really. And certainly it teaches you to lay your trust in the Lord, who knows the plans he has for your and your little ones life.
For all this I've learned, apparently I had forgotten that labor falls into the uncontrollable category as well. If only we could pick our labor story, huh? I heard about this woman at my mom's church that has something called "silent labor" where she doesn't know she's in labor/has no pain until she needs to push. If I had a choice in the matter, I think I'd pick that option. Okay, I'm mostly joking. I'm sure there is an increased risk involved with even that labor story. But I was reminded afresh this past week just how much I don't have control.
I am sure the fact that Clara came early contributed to my discouragement when my due date passed and nothing happened. I had scheduled an induction for the 7th, thinking I certainly would go into labor on my own before. I didn't. So we showed up to the hospital at just before six in the morning. We had our bags packed (we didn't even have bags with us when we checked into the hospital with Clara - they were in our car) and everything ready to go. It felt like we were going on a trip or something.
As soon as we met our nurse and checked into our room, I got some discouraging news. Since I'd tested positive to Strep B, I had to wait for two IVs of antibiotics before inducing labor. They had to be separated by four hours. Since they started my first drip at 7:30, the second wouldn't come until 11:30. Although not the biggest deal in the world, after my labor with Clara (which was very fast) and the stories I'd heard about breaking water/petocin making labor happen quickly, I was kind of expecting to have a baby in my arms by noon. That didn't happen. We would have to wait.
What did happen, however, was that I started going into labor (very pre-labor) on my own. As soon as they hooked me up to the monitor, it showed I was having regular contractions. Even though they weren't entirely painful, they became uncomfortable pretty quickly. They were just painful enough to make our three hours of waiting really tiring. From eight until eleven we walked the halls, watched a movie and tried to welcome distraction.
At eleven the doctor broke my water. Breaking your water is supposed to make a huge difference, right? For my sister-in-law, it made her go from zero to sixty in seconds. Not so with me. My contractions just kept coming. Steady, yes. Uncomfortable, certainly. Breathing strategies were used to get through them. But they never got closer together. At all. I was dilated to a three and nothing happened for an hour. Ugh.
Keep in mind that with Clara we walked into Triage at 12:02 am and Clara was in my arms at 2:29 am. With this labor we had been at the hospital since before 6:00 and by noon I was maybe a centimeter more dilated than I had been when I arrived.
So then they started the petocin. This was around noon. Again I waited for something drastic. Instead it felt like I lingered in the same place, only with a whole lot more pain. I think I went from a four to a five and a half in three+ hours. And I had incredible back pressure. My doctor confirmed that the baby was head down but facing the wrong way (head up). This created "back labor". Since the baby's head wasn't in the right place to push on my cervex correctly (sorry people, this is a labor story), she explained that every two contractions was about equivalent to one regular contraction with rear facing babies. That was awesome news (read sarcasm). For those hours we tried just about every position our nurse suggested for turning the baby. The baby didn't turn.
And then at about 3:30pm, things started to change. To be honest, I don't remember much of the next hour. All I know is that things got a little bit crazy, quite fast. Jonathan says he knew things were picking up when I stopped talking. I just remember it starting out by the nurse saying I was at a six (which felt like discouraging news). Then I remember needing the puke bucket (sorry again). And then I went into the zone. Or the black hole. Or something like that. All I know is I started feeling lots of pressure and crazy contractions and lots of back pain. And then they were coming in and setting up for delivery. And the nurse checked me and I was at an eight. And then I was saying I felt like I was going to die. And faint. And that I wanted an epidural. Or some kind of "HEELLLPPP please!!!" Of course my lovely nurse was saying "you're not going to get one sweetie, but you are going to meet this baby soon." And I think I told her I was going to die before I could meet my baby. Or maybe I just thought it. Probably the latter.
They gave me oxygen because my hands started going numb and I felt like I was going to pass out. Or die. But I think I already said that about dying. And then I felt the need to push. I just remember the nurse telling me to try not to push (which is nearly impossible, by the way) and then I was given the green light (for the second time, my doctor didn't make it in time - they had to grab the internal medicine doctor on call, which is why they wanted me to wait to push). Two contractions later, Jonathan was in my face saying, "It's a BOY!!!!" And for the second time I was dumbfounded. "Check again," I said. "I already checked three times," he replied ;). Then I heard the cries and he was placed in my arms and the most miraculous thing happened. I was holding my little baby boy. Healthy and perfect in every way.
Many people have told me how they loved their second child just as much as their first - even though they doubted it before having him/her. I knew the same would be the case for me. I just couldn't fathom loving a baby that wasn't Clara as much as I love Clara. Let me just say that it was impossible not to fall head over heels in love with this baby boy from the moment he was placed in my arms. It sounds so cheesy but it is true. Your heart just expands to love beyond what you thought was possible.
After nursing him, they took him from my arms for the official measurements. He was 8 lbs, 5 oz., substantially bigger than Clara. He did have ten more days in him mama's oven though ;). And he measured 21 inches long. The official birth time was 4:44pm. My doctor and nurse recorded my official "labor time" as 2.5 hours. I laughed and said how about ten hours since we checked in at six. And the nurse said, "I've been doing this for sixteen years and we count labor at the onset of difficult contractions, which for you started around 2pm". So there you have it. According to them it was a very fast labor - especially since I ended up delivering him "sunny side up". It didn't feel fast to me, though. It felt torturously slow and ridiculously horrible. Okay, I know I have much to be thankful for. I am just really glad I don't have to go through it again for a long time - even though the prize at the end is better than anything in the world :).
After a few minutes wavering, we decided on Caleb George. We were pretty much certain of our girl name but we had been undecided about a boy name. I was kind of stressed about it, actually, but it was just another superstitious reason I believed we were having a second girl. And I'm pretty much certain that if he were born a week earlier, he would've had a different name. But I am so happy with Caleb. Yes, it broke two of my major naming rules (it's popular and matchy with Clara). But it has been the name that I have loved the longest. And it's Jonathan's middle name, which I think is pretty great. George is after Jonathan's dad (John George, who is named after his grandpa George). Just like we hope Clara lives up to the "Joanne" in her name, after my grandma, we hope Caleb George is much like is grandpa.
I feel like there is so much more to say, but this is already a very very long post. And I have plenty of time to add more pictures and thoughts later. Maybe. I have had writing this post on my "to dos" for the last five days and it's just now happening. We'll see how this blogging with two goes ;).
Here is what you really want to see, I am sure. Pictures...
I'll end with this: we are in love. Caleb is precious and perfect in every way. A gift from God and a miracle. I don't know how many times I've cried just looking at him and recalling all the times I thought I'd miscarried. Or the times I worried after contracting 5ths disease. Or thinking I was leaking amniotic fluid. I am just blessed beyond comprehension. We are savoring these days around here.
And thank you for all the prayers and love and support. We truly feel so undeserving of the love we've felt from so many of you.
