Anyway, so I had zero contractions leading up to the day I went into labor. I was sick with the flu like 3 or 4 times during the pregnancy and I would get so dehydrated that I would have some small contractions but nothing major. Once I was able to hydrate, they always went away. It was so crazy how sick I would get during this pregnancy... I only had 1st trimester morning sickness with Millie. This time, I had that plus I caught everything that Millie brought home, plus some. On Chase's due date, I even had to go to urgent care for my first ever sinus infection. I was so miserable!
I was due on February 6th, and on Sunday February 7th (Super Bowl between the Carolina Panthers and Denver Broncos... spoiler alert: the Broncos won), I was on the phone with mom around 6pm while Craig was fixing chicken wings for dinner. She would always ask if "anything was happening" and I had nothing to report other than him being super active that day and his kicks were crazy hard. As we were getting off the phone though, I felt a "cramp" that lasted for about 30 seconds and then went away. I was pretty sure it was a contraction but didn't want to say anything to Mom to get her hopes up.
As I got off the phone, I told Craig that I thought I just had a contraction and he gave me a slight side-eye (and actually kind of ignored the statement). I'm pretty sure it was because the Super Bowl was about to start! We had joked during the last month that I had to hold out until the Super Bowl was over, so when I told him about the contractions, I'm not sure if he was thinking "Nope" or "she's probably kidding or mistaken". I knew they were inconsistent so I didn't really make a big deal out of it so I proceeded with the next hour, realizing they were getting somewhat intense, and that they kept on coming. Granted, not consistently, but I was pretty sure we were going to get there soon.
I wasn't hungry so I ate a couple wings and whatever else we had and just let things go. I took a shower eventually (after Millie went down for bed) and as Craig was watching the game. Eventually, I called the doctor around 11pm because the contractions would be like 3 minutes apart for a little while, and then they'd space back out. The on-call doctor told me I might want to start heading to the hospital soon since it was my 2nd child. She also said if they spaced out again, then I could just wait a little bit before going in, so I did. I laid down, but I knew that was going to be short-lived and Craig slept in the guest room for a little while, since we figured there was no sense in both of us not sleeping. Around 1am, the contractions kept coming even while I was laying down, so I decided maybe we should go. I called my brother to come to the house to stay with Millie and I went and woke Craig up. He said "Am I going too?" Seriously? No, I'd rather have the baby alone. I'm going to chalk it up to him being groggy from sleep.
We get to the hospital around 2am and this weird nurse checked me in and did all the cervix exam fun stuff. I was really happy her shift was going to be over soon because her bedside manner was just strange and I wasn't in the mood to deal with awkward. Anyway, I was at 4cm (I had been at 1cm for 3 weeks so I was happy it seemed to be happening quickly, finally!). They still wanted me to walk around for a while to see how quickly I'd progress. So I'd walk and walk and have contractions every 2 minutes like clockwork, but then my back would start to hurt so I'd lay down for a while and the contractions would stop. It really was not fun because walking around after being awake for 24 hours already, plus a sinus infection wasn't my idea of a smooth delivery.
So, my doctor came in around 8 or 9am I think and he decided they should go ahead and break my water and he swears it'll get going after that since I was still only at 5cm. So, apparently, my sac or whatever didn't want to burst and he had a really hard time getting that to happen. "Uncomfortable" is probably an understatement as I try to withstand this maneuver and I am sure I'm going to walk off my bed via my behind. It finally breaks and they discover meconium (again - this happened with Millie too, so I wasn't alarmed or anything). And once your water breaks, the contractions get really intense, however they weren't very consistent. They just hurt like crazy, which is super fun as tired and as congested as I was.
The contraction pain was almost blinding at one point and I was having trouble breathing in a way that was helping me to get through them (because I found myself holding my breath because the pain was so crazy). Every time I felt one coming, I'd call Craig over and he'd hold my hand as I tried to bear down and huff and puff and get through it. Craig was the best in the delivery room, both times. He stood right there with me, whatever I needed. I'm pretty sure he even cried with me at one point. I'm sure it's hard watching someone be in so much pain and really, there's nothing you can do for them. Plus we were both exhausted. Eventually, I just started crying because I wasn't progressing and it felt like I was in all this pain and my wheels were just spinning. So I told him that I was going to have the nurse (Mary Kelly - she was amazing and super knowledgable and experienced) come back in and check me and if I wasn't at like 7cm by now (it was around 1pm), we were going to have to go to an epidural, which wasn't in my plan.
So, she came in and we told her my game plan and she checked me. She took off the gloves, threw them away and came and sat on my bed. "You're still at 5cm." Worst. News. Ever. Not really, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear on a day that nothing was happening very quickly. So I told her to go ahead with lining up the epidural. At that point, I wanted it RIGHT THEN. Like, why had she not already had him standing outside?! I kept powering through contractions, tears and all, and I kept asking when the anesthesiologist was going to come. She sat down on my bed again and said "Haley, you're going to have probably 5 more contractions before he gets here." Ughhhhh.
Ok, so the epidural. Most people know that I hate, and I mean, haaaate needles. But the pain won out, so whatever. He came in and explained what was going to happen, which all happened during contractions and I wasn't exactly handling those very well at the moment. So, they get me to sit up on the side of the bed and wrap my legs around Craig and they had raised the bed so that when I hugged him, I was hunched over and they could easily access my spine to shove a canon sized catheter or something up there. They get through the first phase (as I was contracting, no less) and then they move on to step 2, which I think was to inject the stuff to make all my stuff numb... BRING IT! With that came the strangest sensation/pinch that I wasn't really expecting and I about jumped off the bed. At that point, the nurse and anesthesiologist both yell at me "DON'T MOVE!" and then I begin crying. Again. I'm thinking "Great, not only did I mess up my epidural, but now I'm probably paralyzed too. Perfect."
So, they finished and the nurse did the "ice test" and determined that I had the perfect epidural. I felt NOTHING from my abs down and finally... RELIEF! My mom came back from eating lunch with my brother (she witnessed a breakdown before she left when I was crying during contractions) and looked at the monitor as I was having a contraction that was apparently off the charts. She kind of gave me a sideways glance and said "You ok?" I said "yep" and proceeded to chow down on my grape popsicle. She couldn't believe the difference. They turned the lights out, my dad and stepmom came back to the room too and they sat over to the side and talked with mom for a while, Craig left for a quick lunch and then answered some work emails when he came back, and I napped. It was glorious. I had never been more sure of a decision in my life.
After a little while, the nurse also made a decision after they had to up my pitocin levels to get my contractions to really make some headway, to give me a peanut shaped medicine ball to put between my legs as I rested. It was huge, but honestly, at that point - who cared?! So I used that and turned from side to side every so often, and within like an hour - I was at 10cm! I could tell I was close because I began shaking, which was what happened when I got to 10cm with Millie. They told me to keep the ball between my legs so that his head would come down a little more and it would make pushing easier. I was all about that and I was still in no real pain, so I just let it ride. They went ahead and kicked my parents out and began getting me ready to push. Finally! It was like 4:30 I think. The NICU team had to bring in all their stuff and they ended up briefing another one of my doctors from the practice as it was time for another shift change. But it's ok, because the longer we prolonged pushing, the more the contractions were naturally bringing him down the birth canal and again... no real pain, just pressure.
When my doctor came in (I love Dr. Barlow), I begged her to PLEASE help me not tear like I did with Millie. It was such a miserable recovery with her and I really just wanted to try to make things as "easy" as possible since pain wasn't a huge issue during the pushing. She reassured me that 2nd babies were better in general, and the nurse seemed very confident that we had done a good job of getting him down naturally to where tearing wasn't going to be a sudden problem since it's all been so gradual. All of this was so different than it was with Millie. Pushing was a nightmare with her and I was exhausted and writhing in pain. Plus with her, I delivered with a doctor I had never met before that day.
Anyway, pushing started and it really wasn't that bad. I mean, it wasn't paradise, but it was definitely bearable. The nurses saw the head and told Craig to look repeatedly and he refused (bless his heart)... he kept telling me "Sorry baby, there are just some things you can't unsee and that's one of them." They told me to feel and I felt his head and it just felt like mush, which was rather alarming and they assured me it was totally normal. But I was ecstatic that he was RIGHT THERE! So with what felt like minimal effort, he was born and laid on my chest. It was the best feeling in the world. He cried, I cried (and I'm pretty sure Craig cried) and I quietly shushed him, trying to comfort him. Then he pooped on me, but I really didn't care. He was finally here and I felt like he was just melting into my chest as all my pregnancy anxiety went away after 2 miscarriages.
The days at the hospital were my favorite with both Millie and Chase. Yes, it was annoying to have nurses and doctors constantly in and out, checking on me and them but it's the easiest 2-3 days. All of your food is brought to your bed, and the only thing you really need to worry about is feeding your baby and trying to rest. Plus, if anything happens to go wrong or if you have questions, someone is RIGHT there. Whereas, when you go home to a toddler and your house, which if you're anything like me, it feels like there's always something to do... it's just stressful trying to get situated. My mom was at home, waiting on us both times and man, that was the best. I know a lot of people don't want any help when they first come home. NOT I. I needed all the help I could get because there were times that I was so exhausted and questioning myself... it's nice to have someone there that's done it before and can just jump in and take over if needed. I cried when she left. Both times.
I don't know what it is about coming home from the hospital... it's like babies just go bonkers as soon as you set foot in your house. Things go from easy-peezy in the hospital to a train wreck in an hour's time. Chase had a circumcision (sorry son, for you spillin' your bidness) and they did it literally right before we left. They brought him back to the room and we put him in the carseat and left once they gave us the rundown. Basically, the instructions were "you don't need to change the gauze unless it gets poop on it". So, what does Chase do when we walk in the door? You got it. So, I'm trying to change him and the gauze and he is SCREAMING. And I mean, it was awful. So, he's screaming, I'm crying because he's screaming and I feel like it's my fault, and the dang dog was even pacing back and forth crying because things were just CA-RAZY. We were all a mess. But, as things always do - they settled down and here we are 7 months later. Chase is a pretty happy baby overall, but he definitely shares his sister's temper. When he's over it, he is over it. But I love when I walk into his room after a really good night's sleep or a really long nap and he just smiles up at me. He has the sweetest grin.
And now, I leave you to go and convince myself that I do not want a third child...
