***This week I am writing the story of darling little Clementine's arrival- it's pretty long (though don't worry, not gory!) so I am putting it into three posts***
My sweet precious little girl Clementine is here and we are taking in all of her wonder. Now I am lying in bed holding her in my arms, over my shoulder as she nestles down into a deep sleep while I write about her arrival. There's no better feeling in the world than this. Let me tell you about how she came.
If you have been keeping up with me at all here, you will remember that I had reached 40 weeks of pregnancy, and then gone past my due date, and was becoming rather impatient for the baby to arrive. You may also recall that I felt some trepidation regarding the labor I knew I would be very soon- doesn't every mom feel this? Let's face it, there's no easy way out for these babies, is there!
During my pregnancy I prayed often that God would help me through labor and that I would have an easier time of it than I had had for the others, particularly Truman's, my last baby. His labor lasted for 22 hours and the final 5 hours I had the most horrendous back pain and needed a back rub throughout the entire contraction. No, not a back rub, that is much too mild a term. I required Ben digging his fists into the small of my back with all his strength, me, braced against the wall for traction while he put all his weight on me, pushing against the bed, and together with both of us pushing against each other with all our might, his fists barely provided the relief I needed during each contraction. As I said, this went on for 5 hours. Occasionally I got on my hands and knees and he pushed into my back that way, while I cried, "Harder!", and my knees got rubbed raw into the carpet on the floor. We made it, finally, and Truman and I were both healthy, with no complications, so of course I was very thankful, and once I held him in my arms, everything I just went through seemed like nothing. But Truman's birth, which had become a distant memory, never to be repeated, kept playing through my mind with greater intensity as it got closer to the time for the new baby to arrive. If I could at all avoid a labor like the last one, I would be so thankful. So, I prayed that I would have an easier time of it, and also decided that one way I had made the last several labors more difficult for me was that I really had not been doing a good job of relaxation.
I felt did the "best" job (if once can call it that) in labor with my first two babies. I had recently taken Bradley classes where the emphasis was on complete and total relaxation, where the laboring mother has the appearance of sleeping even during the hardest contractions, and makes very little sound, just deep quiet breaths. I felt I did this with my first two babies, but in subsequent labors felt like I had no control during each hard contraction. I ended up being much louder throughout, and restless, pacing the room and never able to stay in any one position long enough to acheive relaxation. Upon thinking about this I wondered if this could have been the reason they seemed so much harder. But of course in retrospect all of this was impossible to figure out definitively because memories are faulty things especially when it comes to measuring pain- but I did wonder if maybe I should try to acheive total relaxation this time, if at all possible. That was my strategy, as well as praying over and over that God would help me get through it.
I decided to let go of any fear and just let my labor be what it was. I also prayed that I would be thankful during labor and that God would help me keep in focus what it was all for- a brand new wonderful baby. I am always thankful when it is all over with but during the labor I felt I lost perspective and turned very negative rather than grateful that it would all be over and the baby would be here soon.
Anyway, this was what I was thinking about during the last few weeks and days leading up to the baby's birth. I gave myself a quick refresher on relaxation, rereading the sections on it in Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way and told Ben that my goal was to stay as relaxed as possible this time. Poor guy- what could he do but agree! I don't think he wanted a repeat of the last labor anymore than I did.
On Wednesday, August 6th, I hit the 40 week mark and I felt a little depressed that day, but reminded myself that the goal was to be thankful, for each day of pregnancy, and for the labor that brought the baby to us, and to not rush things, but rather be grateful for each moment. I wrote about it a little bit on here. Once I got past Wednesday, the next couple of days were much easier. I visited the midwife Thursday and I think everyone was hoping she would tell me when the baby would arrive, but, like I expected, she merely gave me a brief check and said everything looked great, baby was healthy, and would arrive when she was ready. Each day I knew I was one day closer (duh), and though I was quite uncomfortable I felt relatively positive though I was now a bit late.
Thankfully, Friday evening, I began to have a bit of discomfort that I knew was the start of real contractions, rather than just the painless ones that really accomplish nothing. I went to bed thinking they would go away as I slept, like they had done for the last couple of weeks, and that I would wake up with nothing at all, but when I woke up a few times that night, I at least had a few more-enough for me to have a feeling that the baby would probably be arriving in the next day or two.
Sure enough, Saturday morning I got up and as I moved around I felt more contractions- nothing regular, and not lasting more than about 15 seconds, but I thought it was the start of the real thing. I began to wonder what I should do that day. How much time did I have, here? On the one hand, this could potentially go on all weekend, or it could pick up within the next few hours. (Or, of course, it could just die out completely and Baby could wait another week to appear at all- I chose to ignore that option!)
Thankfully, Ben solved the issue for me. I think I had mentioned to him that I might be feeling the start of labor but that I wasn't sure, but I didn't know if he had really paid attention to me, because I was so uncertain, myself. Well, at any rate, he announced that we were going to pick up my sister and drive to Boulder and walk around the Pearl Street mall that afternoon. I was so grateful to him. I thought it was the best idea ever- walking, to get my labor going, something different to distract me from paying attention to each and every little ache and pain.
Driving to Loveland to pick up Stephanie, the contractions got stronger, though still irregular, and I began to wonder if it was such a good idea to drive an hour from home just then- what if it was real and I got stuck in Boulder, having a baby? Well, by the time we got to my sister's house, contractions slowed down significantly and I decided we'd be fine. But then I wondered if I should at least let the midwife know that I thought I might go into labor in the coming hours. On the one hand I didn't want to give a false alarm, but on the other hand, it was the middle of the day and it probably wouldn't bother her to get a text lettign her know I thought it could be starting soon.
I hemmed and hawed for a ridiculous amount of time over the question and finally decided I should at least let her know in case she wanted to take a nap or something. I sent one of the most indecisive texts ever, :"Having mild contractions since last night but I could be jumping the gun by alerting you, but I'm sort of guessing it'll be tonight or maybe tomorrow." To which I was grateful she replied, "Sounds encouraging. Thx for the heads up." Hah, I kind of laugh at this because I was scared she might scold me about texting her over nothing- clearly I way overthought that text message! This was at 1:00.
We got to the outdoor mall and ate lunch at our favorite Italian restaurant and walked around some. I purposely brought my camera wanting to get pictures of the day I went into labor and I'm so glad I did.
All that walking was about the best thing I could have done that day and we had such a fun time, me knowing the baby could be on the way, and all of us enjoying each other's company. What a great memory.
On the way home Ben asked me if I wanted to go over to our friends' house that evening and just hang out. I hemmed and hawed about like I did with my text message- clearly I am incapable of making a clear decision about labor! On the one hand I wanted to still be distracted if all this was early labor and would go on for hours, on the other, I didn't want to keep distracting myself and just have the adrenaline and activity delay the inevitable. I told him we should just go home and then decide.
