***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***
The minute we got home, Ben wisely went upstairs to take a nap- he knows a thing or two about labor, by now!- and I realized that that was probably the best thing I could possibly do right then as well, since it was becoming clear that the contractions were starting to get consistent and I probably would be up all night. I realized my midwife might like to hear an update from me, and now I felt more certain about what was going on, so I texted her, "Ctx getting regular, so I'm going to take a nap in case I'm up all night. Pretty sure it's not going away." This was at 6:45, and I was able to sleep for about 30 minutes, waking up frequently with contractions.
After I woke up, I told Ben this was definitely labor and so he kept the kids downstairs and kept them entertained for the next hour while I lay on my bed and listened to them play and prayed. Yes, that's what I did, through each and every contraction, and in between, I prayed for strength to get through each one and I prayed for thankfulness and that I would be able to keep my focus on what it was all for.
At this time I decided to call Stephanie who would be watching the kids for us. She was the third one on the list to call- two other families who had offered to watch them were both out of town that weekend!
I told her that she would probably need to pick up the kids in the morning, but since it was already almost bedtime, they could just stay at home for the night. I didn't know how long it would be and I didn't want to make Stephanie have them for longer than was necessary in her tiny but adorable house. She said she'd keep the phone by her in case we needed her to get them in the middle of the night, but I assured her it would most likely not be necessary.
Shortly after I hung up, Ben came up to check on me and I was lying on the bed again, concentrating very hard through contractions. They didn't seem to be too frequent or lasting too long. I had gotten out my phone and begun timing them, and to my surprise, they were already lasting 45 seconds or so and coming every 4-5 minutes.
He saw how hard I was concentrating and asked, "Well, what's the plan for the kids?"
I told him how I'd called Steph and how she'd get them tomorrow. Ben listened to the kids shrieking and laughing and playing downstairs (they were super excited when they were told the baby was coming) and shook his head and said, "Why on earth didn't you tell her to just come pick them up now?"
Good question. "Um, yeah, that sounds like a good idea, when you put it that way..."
So Ben called Stephanie right back and asked if she could head over and pick up the kids. This is when I began to realize the baby really was coming tonight, probably only hours away. I lay on the bed again, listening to the children play, getting a little perturbed by the noise, and listened for my sister to arrive.
The kids came upstairs to say good bye to me, and they were so, so happy and excited. I will always remember the excitement and eagerness on their faces and I was thrilled that I could tell them that they would get to finally see the baby the next time we were together. The little ones kept jumping on the bed and hugging me and climbing on me and I wasn't too sorry to see them go a few minutes later, I admit. This was around 9:30.
Ben went to grab something to eat in the kitchen and downloaded a contraction app on his phone and I began to cry a bit in pain and fear. It was getting intense- with minute long contractions every few minutes. I decided to fill the tub, even if meant slowing everything down just a bit. The instant I got in the water, relaxation washed all over me, and the contractions slowed and grew shorter. I was more than ready for this bit of relief. Ben came upstairs and sat beside me and we timed contractions, because, what else is there to do?
The next three hours consisted of me going between the tub, the bed, and most comfortable of all, a foam mat we laid out on the bathroom floor. Between each contraction, which stayed about 4 minutes apart, I was able to sleep for a few seconds, and wake up in enough time to be ready for the next one. In my dreams, and wakefulness, and through each contraction, I prayed and prayed and did my best to be thankful that we would soon meet our baby. When each contraction ended, I told myself to pretend that labor had just started, and that nothing had happened yet, and the next contraction would be my very first one. For some reason, this really helped.Ben held my hand gently through each contraction, and this was all I needed, in fact it was exactly what I needed.
Also, Ben pulled up a play list on his phone and soft music played in the background. We had not made up a labor playlist because usually I want total silence, but for some reason, the songs he happened to have on his phone were perfectly peaceful and soothing and comforted me through each contraction. The irony of some of the lyrics struck me humorously, since they were not written about labor, yet they applied perfectly to what I was going through:
"And the toils of the road will seem nothing when I get to the end of the way."
"Leaning, leaning on the arms of Jesus. Leaning on the arms of Jesus to carry me through."
"I have fallen on my knees as I faced the raging seas, but the Anchor hold in spite of the storm."
I couldn't help but smile about how appropriately the words fit my situation just then. The songs helped me so much to keep in focus what the entire labor was for. I thanked God over and over again for the miracle He had given us.
Around one in the morning, I finally was ready to quit. I told Ben I wanted to go to the hospital now, before it was too late, so I could still get drugs before the worst part of labor hit. I didn't see the point of staying at home to have the baby- and why on earth in the 21st century when the pain could go away in a second, was I still having a natural birth? Ben just told me, no. "No we're not going to the hospital, we are staying here and you are fine. You are doing a great job and you'll be able to do this just like you have with all the other babies."
I think I was so discouraged because based on the timing of the contractions (they were still lasting only about 45 seconds, 4 minutes apart) I thought I must not be very far along- maybe three centimeters. After suffering for another 30 minutes or so, I begged Ben to at least call the midwife and get her to come over. (Why? It's not like she would be able to give me drugs or something.)
Ben called Carol and she said she would be right over. This surprised me and made me wonder if maybe I was further along than I thought I was. Less than 20 minutes later I heard two cars pull up, which meant the assistant had arrived as well- this gave me a boost in confidence because if she thought the assistant should be there already the baby must not be too far from arriving.
Carol came in the room and I begged her to check me to let me know if I had dilated at all. "Do you want to know where you are at?" She asked after checking me.
"YES!"
"I'd say 7 centimeters."
This was joyous news to me and after this I got a second wind to face the next part of labor. Carol had me start walking around the room to get the baby to settle in lower and get the contractions harder and stronger. With each and every contraction she held me and talked me through it calmly and I was able to stay relaxed through each one, like I had prayed I would be able to. I told myself, "One breath at a time." Then when each one ended, I told myself, "Act like labor is just starting." After an hour or so, I begged Carol to check me again, in fact I believe my exact words were, "Please check me, I beg of you!"
This time I was at nine and as soon as she said it I was so happy. It was about 3 am, and I couldn't believe I was almost done. The next few contractions almost felt good, because I felt so positive and couldn't believe it was almost over. Ben called my sister Amy, who we had asked to come and take pictures after the baby arrived so that we wouldn't have to mess with the camera then. (I was not the least bit interested in labor or birth photos- that would have been so awkward for me).
When Amy arrived about 45 minutes later, contractions were still coming but I felt I wasn't making progress. I asked Carol to check me again, and sure enough, I was still at nine. I had a second meltdown at this point. I sort of went through transition two times during labor- once the hour before the midwife arrived, and again after being at nine centimeters for an hour and not really progressing. I wanted to cry and just give up and be done with the whole thing. I wanted to take a nap and forget about labor because I was now so discouraged and exhausted. All of a sudden, the contractions picked up and became twice as intense as they had before, and they didn't abate- I had one on top of the other, with almost no break in between, and they were so intense and horrific I could hardly bear it. I told myself they were this intense so that they could get the job done and get the baby here, and this helped a little, but mostly I just suffered through them and felt like I was just trying to survive. I guess that's what transition is. There was just no way to relax through it. Thankfully after five or six hideously intense contractions like this I was finally dilated and ready to push the baby out, and I was so so happy. The smile returned to my face and I just couldn't believe it was over. I kept thinking in my head, "God answered my prayer, He really was with me the whole time and helped me get through this!" This made me so thankful.
Pushing was easy after the thirty minutes of transition I had just gone through, and before I knew it I had a new baby in my arms. All the pain was immediately over, and there was the baby, with a soft round head and a plump little body. It was the first thing I noticed about her. I wasn't too surprised to feel that she was bigger than some of my other babies, since I had definitely felt bigger this pregnancy, despite measuring and weighing the same as the others. I held her for about five minutes before I realized I should make certain the ultrasound was right- did we indeed have a little girl? Yes. Ben got Amy who began to take photos and I kept rubbing our perfect little girl all over over. She cried immediately after being born and she was as pink and healthy as she could possibly be. I kept marveling at her size: "What a little chunk!" I had never been able to say this about any of the other babies, who were all pretty tiny- weighing between 6 lbs 2oz and 7 lbs, 7oz. Her skin looked fair to me, and she had light brown hair and gray eyes. Or maybe blue. At any rate, we kept looking at each other, taking it all in.
